


infatuation

by brainyisalwayssexy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Semi Canon-Compliant, Set during HBP, book canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29249025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brainyisalwayssexy/pseuds/brainyisalwayssexy
Summary: Severus has a chat with Remus Lupin regarding the nature of his relationship with Nymphadora Tonks. Set during the Half Blood Prince, before Christmastime. Oneshot.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	infatuation

**Author's Note:**

> This is… messy. I love Severus as a character for all his greys and complexities, but like, he’s canonically a dick about this relationship. So I had fun exploring that, even though the below scenario almost certainly didn’t happen in canon.
> 
> Anyways, enough said. Enjoy!

Severus hasn't had much reason to be at the Hog's Head, these days. 

It’s a grimy, pathetic excuse of a pub, if one could even call it that. But no matter.

Dumbledore’s orders were to be prioritized over all else, including rational sense, these days...

Aberthforth had shot him a look of disapproval when he’d walked in. Begrudgingly handed him the key to the back room to facilitate this… drop off, of sorts.

A knock on the door -- one he’d been expecting for a few minutes, now -- breaks him out of his thoughts.

He points his wand and flicks the door open to a familiar face. One that looks somehow even _more_ ragged and thin and scarred than when he’d seen it last.

“Ah, yes. _Lupin_.”

“Severus,” he mutters, not quite meeting his eyes. “You have what I requested for?”

“ _Here_ ,” he says simply, and then he unceremoniously tosses a small flask at him.

It’s a modified version of the Wolfsbane potion, as it were. Concentrated to a high enough percentage and then masked with another scent so that the pack wouldn’t recognize it, but strong enough for Lupin to maintain hold of his senses with a mere few drops during his nightly transformations.

It comes out of no particular affections or care for the man himself, to be clear. 

But again, Dumbledore over everything, these days. He’d been the one to pass along Lupin’s request to him, after all. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs brusquely, and then, words phrased something like a question -- 

“You could have had someone else drop it off, you know. No need to go to this trouble yourself.”

(He’s not _wrong_ , of course, but Severus needs to lure him into the trap he’s set.)

(So he _lies_.)

“Mmm, not really,” he mutters pointedly. “There are very few wizards left willing to rendezvous with a known _werewolf_ , Lupin.”

“ _Besides_ \--” he drawls, “I had to come see you myself. Wanted to know for _certain_.”

Remus eyes him warily, then.

“Know _what_?”

“If the _rumors_ were true.” 

Severus draws closer, like a predator encircling its prey. Notes to himself the slightest _twitch_ in the other man’s stance. Like he’s _hiding_ something. 

“That _you’re_ the reason a certain Auror has withered away into a shadow of her former self.”

Lupin’s face falls. 

Somehow, that’s all he needed to see.

“ _Ah_ ,” he rasps as _delicately_ as he can. 

His next words are a test. One he can already guess Lupin is going to flunk, and _miserably_ at that.

“Well, I could expect no less from _Nymphadora_.” he spits out. “She _always_ was an impulsive, arrogant, bumbling, good-for-nothing little _fool…_ ”

He’s cut off by the sound of the other man’s fists slamming against the table, almost as if by impulse.

“Don’t you _dare_ talk about her like that, Severus...” Lupin hisses out through gritted teeth, and he detects a thread of quiet, palpable _fury_ , far beyond what one would call merely _friendly_.

Just as he’d suspected.

“ _Ah_ ,” he says again, and he can’t help the gloat now, a slight smirk on his lips. “You don’t mean to tell me you’ve encouraged her affections? That they’re... _returned_?”

Remus says nothing. The silence speaks _volumes_.

“My, _my_ , Lupin.” Severus can hardly keep the bored tone out of his voice, though truthfully speaking, he’s _anything_ but. 

“She’s a bit _young_ for you, now, don’t you think? She was my _student_ just a few years ago, and now you’ve got her all wrapped up in your paws.”

He can’t help the taunts. It’s too easy, and Lupin looks too miserable to counter them.

“I always _knew_ you were a dog. But I didn’t expect it to go _this_ far.”

He sees something -- _apologetic_? _repentant_? -- flit across the other man’s face.

“Severus, _we didn’t_ \--”

“Stop. I’m not looking for specifics, so don’t bother.”

(Frankly, he’s not interested in excuses. He’s had a lifetime of those.)

(It’s all the same, in the end.)

Remus looks contrite, but falls silent again.

“She has a real future in front of her, you know,” he muses lazily. “Alastor’s _clear_ favorite. Could be the top Auror within the _decade_.”

Remus’ eyes narrow, and he can see the man clench his jaw.

“You were insulting her intelligence thirty _seconds_ ago, Severus…”

“I still think she’s a _fool_ but she has immense magical talent, I’ll give her that.” he states coolly.

And then, another jab -- 

“ _I_ may not care for her personally but unlike _you_ , I’m not blinded by my _emotions_ , Lupin.”

The other man frowns.

“So what have you come here to do, then? Gloat? _Mock_ me?”

(Oh, _no_.)

Severus shakes his head.

“On the contrary, I’m here to offer some advice.”

“Please do. I’m all ears.”

He leans forward, then, so Remus can hang onto every last word -- 

“ _Let. Her. Go_. Otherwise, you’ll ruin her life, just as you’ve ruined your own.”

Remus looks like he’s been struck across the face. He’s all but _seething_ , suddenly.

“What _exactly_ do you think I’ve been doing, Severus?”

“Running off on some dead-end mission, like a coward? While she withers away here, moping and _hoping_ things might change?” and then, a cheap shot, just because he can, “Some fine _Gryffindor_ you are.”

Severus leans back. Lets his words sink in.

“You have to take _any_ chance, _any_ last glimmer of hope she has and _destroy_ it.”

Lupin looks hesitant.

“What… what are you saying?”

(As if he doesn’t _know_.)

“I’m saying -- you need to break her heart, _completely_ this time. So she can move on from this silly little _infatuation_.”

“ ** _No_**.” The answer is swift and direct. “I can’t do that to her. Not like that.”

“Can’t, or _won’t_?” he snides. “You really want her to be with a _monster_?”

The other man pulls at his hair, clearly exasperated.

“You don’t think I tried to _warn_ her...?”

“Oh _no_ ,” Severus corrects him quickly. “I wasn’t talking about your affliction. I was talking about _you_.”

He watches with some satisfaction as Lupin seems to close in on himself, almost. _Good_.

“You are _incredibly_ selfish. For letting this go on, as long as it has. Perhaps you _are_ the monster.”

No one who cares for the man would tell him. He may as well hear it from someone who’s _known_ to despise him. Whatever will get the message across. 

Severus continues -- 

“In ordinary circumstances, I would have had no doubt that this infatuation of hers was little more than a fleeting fancy, from her end. Why _else_ do young women go after broken old men? Once she’d had her fun, she’d simply leave you.”

A pause. He lets the sting of his words settle into the man’s open wounds.

“But as it were, these are _not_ ordinary circumstances. She’s going to get distracted, and then get herself killed.”

“It’s not a matter of _if_.” he finishes. “Just _when_.”

“And,” he adds, on afterthought, “I hardly think the cost of her obsession with you should be her _life_.”

Remus says nothing. But Severus knows he’s gotten to him.

Time to finish things up, and be done with it.

“You want her blood on your hands, Lupin?” 

“Of _course_ not.” he mutters, voice so low he can scarcely make it out. 

(But there’s still the _slightest_ tinge of hesitation, there.) 

This is _exhausting_. He doesn’t hide the irritation in his words -- 

“Well. You have a chance, in front of you. So just _do it._ ”

“Or _what_?” he snaps.

“Or _nothing_. There simply _is_ no other choice.” Severus states plainly. 

“In fact,” he continues, “you can tell her _yourself_ , actually…”

Remus’ face drops.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, she’s headed here right now. Order duties, or that’s what I told her, anyways. She doesn’t know _you’re_ here, of course, she’s been avoiding you _religiously_ , but nothing wrong with a little _shock_ , every now and then…”

It’s rare to see the _wolf_ side of him outside of the full moon, wild and feral and fully _unhinged_ , but Snape thinks he comes _pretty damn close_ , right about now -- 

“ _Severus, you **meddling little sna** \--”_

At just that moment, the door swings open, and the Auror in question stumbles in.

“Professor, I got your note --” and then, a pause, as she realizes who _else_ is there-- 

“ _Remus_?” and then, turning back to him for an explanation, of sorts, “Professor, _what_ \--?”

She looks so _young_ and so _lost_ , in that moment. 

Like a schoolgirl again, the student he’d taught not so long ago. 

As for Remus, well, there’s an _oh-so-familiar_ look dancing on the man’s features.

One he’s seen countless times, in his own life.

Nothing short of naked, unadulterated _longing_.

_(Pathetic.)_

It disappears fast, with a speed that’s practiced.

Remus fancies himself inscrutable, Severus knows. He’s dead wrong, of course.

He feels a wave of disgust, again. 

Remus should know _better_. And _yet_...

Nymphadora turns back to him, having missed the look that had flashed across his face.

“Remus -- _I_ \- I didn’t _know_ \-- ”

“Ah, yes.” Snape interjects. “You weren’t _supposed_ to.”

She looks at him, confused. Then back at Remus, as if she can’t help herself.

Remus, of course, is back to glaring at him. But no matter.

“Oh, don’t mind me, lovebirds. I’ll be heading out now, actually. I didn’t need you here at all, Nymphadora. But Remus _does_ , apparently.”

“Severus, don’t you _dare_ \--”

“I smell trouble brewing in paradise.” he continues, ignoring the other man entirely. “Frankly, I’d rather not be here for the fallout.”

“Good luck with the conversation, Lupin.” he says, fixing him with a hard glare. “Choose your words wisely.”

Then without so much as another word, he gets up and leaves, snapping the door shut behind him. Tosses the room key onto the bar and heads out into the cold evening air.

And now... to wait and see, he supposes. What comes out of this conversation.

He had merely _arranged_ the circumstances, of course. 

What happens from here will be _entirely_ up to them both.

He can’t claim to know what _will_ happen. But he knows what _should_.

They’ve both devolved into the _worst_ versions of themselves. For love, or rather, some cheap, pale imitation of it. 

They’d be sealing their own doom, if they chose to be together. 

Because love -- _real_ love -- isn’t something to agonize over, to hedge on, to mumble and fret over, to drag out with questions for _months_ on end, as they both have. 

It just _is_ , or isn’t.

Not everyone can carry the weight of what that entails. Far fewer have the strength or guts for it. 

And most definitely, he thinks with a slight sneer, not _them_.

 _Definitely_ not them.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment and lmk your thoughts!


End file.
